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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383420">a trusted place to rest</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifanwho/pseuds/multifanwho'>multifanwho</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A little bit of angst, F/F, Fluff, One Shot, Post The Timeless Children, Short One Shot, both of them are idiots, in which Yaz forces 13 to take a nap, thirteen is too tired to notice Yaz is crushing on her, yaz has a gay panic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:01:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifanwho/pseuds/multifanwho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After she manages a prison break, the Doctor finds herself exhausted with her feet carrying her to the one place on Earth she feels most safe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thasmin - Relationship, Thirteen/Yaz, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>156</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a trusted place to rest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>thirteen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujShkdugX5I</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She can’t stay in the TARDIS. Yes, it’s her home, yes, it’s the only possession she has that she truly feels she owns at the moment but there are too many distractions. The Doctor drags her feet carelessly along the concrete floor. She’s broken out of prison, made her way back to the TARDIS by hitchhiking across galaxies and then had to play a fourteen rounds of intense arm wrestling to win her machine back. A few more steps towards Yaz’s flat shouldn’t bring her to breaking point but she can feel herself collapsing under her own weight. It’s hard to tell what’s going to happen. She manages to knock on the door but holds the wall next to her to keep herself up.</p><p>The Doctor can’t tell if she’s imagining the sound of shuffling feet behind the door or not. It might be her conscience- one of her consciences at least- trying to trick her into feeling safe so that she can close her eyes, but she forces her eyelids open to get some visual proof. She hears the door unlock. She sees Yaz standing in front of her and almost smiles in relief. Almost, if she had the energy.</p><p>“Doctor-“</p><p>“Please don’t ask any questions. I’ll explain later- I’ll explain every…” The Doctor stops. She expected Yaz to be angry or confused but the look on her face shows only concern. Concern edging on disbelief that the Doctor is standing in front of her. She owes her an explanation and she knows it, but for once there are very few words prepared to come out of her mouth in this moment. “I’m so tired, Yaz.” She whimpers.</p><p>Yaz has that same sad look in her eyes that she did when the Doctor sent her back, outstretching her arm in an instant for the Doctor to take her hand. “Come on.”</p><p>Somehow the Doctor shifts her legs into action under the guidance of Yaz and steps into the threshold of the Khan’s flat. Her senses are so out of line she can’t even tell what year it is by the air.</p><p>“How long has it been for you?” The Doctor asks.</p><p>“Two years.”</p><p>“Ah, two months, that’s not too bad, that’s good. Good old TARDIS. Could’ve been closers but not the worst-”</p><p>“I said two <em>years</em>, Doctor.” Yaz clarifies.</p><p>“Oh.” The Doctor realises and feels both her hearts sinks. A heavy silence smothers the pair of them.</p><p>“How long has it been for you?” Yaz asks quietly.</p><p>“Not sure. Hard to keep track in a cell.” The Doctor ignores Yaz’s repetition of where she was, too busy sticking her little finger in her ear so that she can taste some of her earwax. “A week.”</p><p>The Doctor senses herself going quiet then. It hadn’t felt like a week. Everything from taking the Masters hand has felt like a blur. Physically. Mentally. She just feels so lost.  </p><p>“Please say your mum isn’t here.” The Doctor finds herself begging for an answer. She doesn’t mind Najia, any other day she would enjoy seeing her, maybe even get a well needed hug from her, but right now she would just be another human to explain to. What if Yaz has been sad? Stupid question- of course she would have been sad. Najia would have been the one to deal with it.</p><p>“Everyone’s out.” Yaz says, shifting the Doctor on her side to keep her upright. Since when had this body stared slouching?</p><p>“I’ll just take the… whatcha call it… the…” The Doctor screws her eyes closed to try and summon the word. What is it, what is it, what is it? Gods, her head feel better just from closing her eyes.</p><p>“Sofa?” Yaz finds the word for her.</p><p>“Yeah that’s the one.” The Doctor feels her face relax but her eyes are still resisting opening up. She trusts Yaz. Within these four warm walls she could easily sleep standing up with her only support being Yaz’s body.</p><p>“Can I be honest with you Doctor?” Yaz asks.</p><p>“Always.” The Doctor smiles at the normality of the question. Because she knows Yaz is going to speak her mind anyway.</p><p>“You smell.” Yaz says.</p><p>The words are like the strings puppeteering her eyelids, making them flutter open without the song and dance. That familiar look on Yaz’s face tells her everything. Yaz knows best. Yaz won’t be beaten. Do as Yaz says or you’ll get the cold shoulder for a good couple of hours.</p><p>“I don’t have a change of clothes.” She tells the human keeping her upright.</p><p>“I do.” Yaz says. “And I have a shower.”</p><p>“I don’t want a shower, I want to sleep. I want to-” The Doctor is quick to protest- too quick, she realises, as she starts to say she wants to forget everything that’s happened recently. She’s forgotten enough. How can she even think of saying that with what she’s found out? Idiot Doctor.</p><p>“I don’t care if you want it, you need it. I’m going to sit outside the door to make sure you do.”</p><p>“Yaz-”</p><p>“Let me look out for you for once!” Yaz, for the first time during this encounter, raises her voice showing more than just the calm façade she’s been putting on. “You sent all of us home, saving our lives, while we were stuck for two years believing you had sacrificed yourself for that monster. The least you can do for me is just get in the shower and do as I say in my own house.”</p><p>“Okay.” The Doctor agrees to her terms, now aware of how selfish she has been.</p><p>“It’s just down the hall.” Yaz points timidly, shocked by her own outburst no doubt.</p><p>Like a dog shunned to it’s kennel, the Doctor walks away with her tail between her legs. She’s never been to the bathroom here before and it’s surprisingly spacious. Enough space for her to lean her back against the sink and breathe a sigh of relief<em>. Just this one last thing for her Doctor, then you can sleep,</em> the Time Lord tells herself. She spins herself around to look in the mirror. She looks old, too old for words, older than she knows. She looks rough, rougher than the walls she had to scrape through, rougher than the journey the vortex manipulator threw her through to get back to the TARDIS. And she’s dirty. The rubble of her home stuck on her cheeks, her clothes muddy and stained from heaving the Master to the ground, her sweat having made the underparts of her shirt crusty. She’s a mess. She understands why Yaz said she smells.</p><p>“Yaz.” The Doctor calls out through the wood of the door to make sure she’s there like she said she would be, all while stripping herself of her clothes.</p><p>“Doctor.” Her voice comes through muffled and quiet. “I don’t hear the water running.”</p><p>“Promise me you won’t tell the others.” The Doctor requests, leaning her whole front against the door, hoping Yaz is doing the same on the other side.</p><p>“Tell them what?” Yaz asks.</p><p>“That I’m here.” <em>That I’m alive. </em>“At least not until I’ve told you everything.”</p><p>“Doctor.” Yaz says her name inquisitively. The Doctor stays quiet. “What happened? On Gallifrey. How did you escape? You said you were in a cell, when does that come into it?”</p><p>The Doctor, either unable or unwilling to answer her faithful companion, stays deathly silent. The sequence of events aren’t exactly easy to explain, so instead she sonics the shower on, making it the perfect temperature for the state her body is in, and steps into the little cubicle.</p><p>Muscles unwind, her brain goes to mush and it’s beautifully, beautifully quiet for the first time in ages. Yaz doesn’t pester her to answer her questions. It’s probably a blessing to her that she’s even showering. The Doctor, once she’s sufficiently wet the hair on her head into a flat mess, turns to face the powerful shower head, tilting the heavy head on her shoulders to feel the full force of the water on her face.  As she rubs the grub and the mud and the dust off her face, droplets of water spill past her parted lips into her mouth and before she knows it she’s cupping her hands to hold the hot water so she can drink it.  Her body is so deprived from any kind of liquid it doesn’t matter that it’s warm. Nor that there’s still grime under her fingernails. She picks up whichever bottle of soap she can find, not knowing who it belongs to, and lathers every inch of herself in it until she can taste the bubbles. She makes sure she’s rinsed of the chemicals, turns the water off, and wraps herself in the nearby towel that looks the freshest.</p><p>The shower has given her enough time to give herself the strength to answer the questions she knows are coming. But she isn’t prepared to ask questions herself.</p><p>“What’s that?” The Doctor frowns at the pile of pink clothes she’s being confronted with the second she opens the door.</p><p>“Spare pyjamas.” Yaz shrugs. “Technically they’re not pink, they’re white and ended up in a wash with the reds.”</p><p>“Gendered colours isn’t a thing where I’m from.” The Doctor shrugs back, accepting the fresh, clean clothes. <em>You were not born on Gallifrey</em>, her conscience shouts at her. The Doctor chooses to ignore it. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Tell that to the disgusted look on your face.” Yaz almost cracks a smile, averting her gaze before it can become a fully-fledged grin. “My room’s…just…” Yaz points in  the general direction behind her. The Doctor guesses it’s the only room with the door ajar and heads that way.</p><p>“Why aren’t you coming with me?” The Doctor asks as Yaz stands nervously in the doorway. The tiredness in her system in addition to the water still absorbed in her hair is making her feel cold and shaky. She needs to get those dry clothes on as soon as possible. She drops the towel from around her body and hears a small gasp from Yaz’s direction. “What?”</p><p>“Whoa- well- I- just- there’s- you’re-” Yaz stutters and stumbles over her words, never able to get past one word before skipping to the next and totally unable to keep her eyes focusing on one part of the Doctor’s body. “You’re very…um…naked.”</p><p>“Naked? Oh right!” The Doctor rushes to put on the clothes Yaz has given her. It doesn’t help that the top is inside out at first but she has the sense left in herself to turn her back to fix it. “Humans and modesty. Sorry. Forgot.” She apologies. If she stepped any closer to Yaz she could probably feel the heat from embarrassment radiating off her body. Or another feeling the Doctor might be too tired to notice. She ruffles her hair with the towel to dry it and ignores the face that Yaz is still staring.</p><p>“It’s… I’m… okay. I’m okay.” Yaz final makes eye contact again and the Doctor can see her blushing neck as clear as day. Yaz’s smile is small and filled with nervous energy but she manages to maintain that connection. “I expected you to have more bruises.” Yaz admits.</p><p>The Doctor sits herself down on the side of Yaz’s bed. “It was more mental than physical.” She says, still feeling sorry for herself.</p><p>“I have something for that.” Yaz says.</p><p>The Doctor watches carefully as Yaz closes the door behind her and takes a very fluffy piece of grey fabric off the hook on the back of the door. The Doctor can’t quite figure out what it is as first, but as Yaz twists it around and rotates the Doctor realises it has arms and a hood and a piece of fabric around the back so that it can be tied around her waist. Yaz guides the Doctor’s arms through the holes and places the hood on top of her head. It’s too big and flops in front of her eyes. The Doctor hears Yaz giggle lightly and can’t help but force the muscles in her mouth up to smile gently at her.</p><p>“I’ve also got these. I guessed you’ve been walking a lot so…” Yaz hands the Doctor the warmest, softest, lightest pair of socks she’s ever felt this side of the galaxy. “They’re clean, don’t worry.” Yaz assures her, although that wouldn’t have perturbed the Doctor since she’s already putting them on her feet. “Oh, and I made this. It helped me sleep when you d- when I thought you had… when you were dead.”</p><p>Yaz hands the Doctor a lovely hot water bottle to hold against her chest and cuddle. It provides the Doctor with the illusion of intimacy, like there’s a body being held close to her own whispering in her ear that everything is going to be okay.</p><p>“Why?” The Doctor asks. Yaz could have kicked her away, made her go back to the TARDIS, but she invited her in; let her bathe, let her be clothed, let her take her socks, her dressing gown, her hot water bottle. Why? The Doctor feels she doesn’t deserve any of it; not any of it. Not even her.</p><p>“Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep the entire time I’ve been travelling with you. You’ve been through a lot.” Yaz says innocently.</p><p>“You don’t even know the half of it.” The Doctor chokes down a laugh as not to invalidated Yaz’s sentiment. She knows she means well, after all. “Yaz I owe you an explanation.”</p><p>“Not now, Doctor.”</p><p>“Yes now Doctor.”</p><p>“Not now.”</p><p>“Yes now.” The Doctor betrays herself by yawning.</p><p>“Not. Now. Doctor.” Yaz comfortingly places her hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. Rubbing her thumb in a motion that the Doctor is sure will send her to sleep in a matter of seconds. It’s insane how a little bit of physical contact can do for her, even over the thick dressing gown on her back. Maybe it’s the person doing it, her mind isn’t clear. Before she came to Yaz she was done. So tired she could barely walk and now she’s sitting here with her she doesn’t want to miss anything. She doesn’t want to waste any more time she could be spending with her. Plus, the Doctor feels like she’s got to make up two years’ worth of adventures this very instant. “Stop looking at me like that.”</p><p>“Like what?” The Doctor whispers.</p><p>“Like you’re sad for me. I’ve mourned you for two years, I’m the one that should be looking at you like that.” Yaz says.</p><p>“Then why aren’t you?” The Doctor feels her face scrunch up. She’s never been able to feel that before. Every cell in her body feels like it weighs ten pounds and she knows she’s going to completely burn out any second.</p><p>“Because you’re impossible.” Yaz laughs. “You’re just… you’re like no one I’ve ever met before.”</p><p>“Is that a good thing?” The Doctor mumbles her question. <em>Come on, don’t give up on me now, mouth</em>, the Doctor urges her body to keep going. Yaz nods in response to her question. “Cool. Nice one.” The Doctor stands herself up ready to leave. “I’m going to go sleep on the sof-”</p><p>“Whoa!” Yaz manages to catch the Doctor as she falls, placing her under the covers and tucking her in in one swift motion. “I was going to make you sleep here tonight anyway. You deserve more than a sofa.”</p><p>“No, I can-”</p><p>“Shut up Doctor.” Yaz holds her down by her shoulders, pinning her to the mattress. She could probably move her legs if she tried but it’s more the shock of Yaz being able to physically restrain her that has her staying put.</p><p>“Since when did you get so strong?” The Doctor asks, amazed by her upper body strength.</p><p>“Had to go back to work, didn’t I.” Yaz mumbles. The Doctor feels a sharp pain in her chest at that and reaches out to hold Yaz’s hand, lacing their fingers together so that Yaz can’t run away.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I should have checked the dates before I came here.” The Doctor apologises. She was so relived to see the TARDIS brought her to park hill flats she didn’t check the dates. Or if the outside was safe. Or if she was being followed by the Judoon. She just needed to get here, that's all her brain was telling her.</p><p>“Better late than never.” Yaz says. The Doctor is still awake enough to hear the crack in her voice. She uses everything that’s left in her to keep her eyes wide open, so that she can look at that face that is so good at hiding hurt and pain.</p><p>“You’re the best of humanity, Yasmin Khan.” The Doctor says. Not a mumble, not a mutter. She says it. Her voice crystal clear.</p><p>Her words must have hit a nerve because Yaz is lost for words. The Doctor has entered herself into a strange kind of staring match where by every passing seconds it’s hard to keep her eyes open. The Doctor’s vision blurs and she blinks, having to push her eyelids open again like forcing an elevator door from closing. With each blink it takes longer for her to fight back, until she hears Yaz’s voice warm and smooth whispering in her ear.</p><p>“Sweet dreams Doctor.”</p><p>The Doctor’s eyes shut for good and she does have sweet dreams, considering what she’s been through. She has sweet dreams for twenty four hours straight, only interrupted once by Sonya shouting: “Yaz did you use all my fucking body wash?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay so the plot line is WEAK I just wanted Yaz to tuck 13 into bed</p></blockquote></div></div>
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